


workin' on empty

by anniebibananie



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Office, Arya breaks every HR rule in the book, F/M, Gmail Messenger, Promise, They're forced to use GMAIL MESSENGER, and schedules conference calls, i'm not gonna tag side ships cause none of them are really confirmed, office shenanigans really, they get to be happy tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-11
Updated: 2019-06-11
Packaged: 2020-05-01 17:45:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19182694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anniebibananie/pseuds/anniebibananie
Summary: Arya hadn’t meant to end up at Stark Industries when she had spent the majority of her adult life avoiding exactly that, but now that she was there she guessed she could make the best of it.(The best of it involved sending too many gmail chat messages to her siblings, tricking Gendry into getting involved with her shenanigans, and sometimes doing her job. Mostly the first two, though.)





	workin' on empty

**Author's Note:**

> definitely did not use the hozier fanfic title generator for this. 
> 
> also basically should be dedicated to steph since she willingly gmail messages me during the work day. inspired by my own job except i don't have joe dempsie to stare at unfortunately.

They sat her in a cubicle—gray, large, confining. Frankly, it was the sort of office environment Arya had always assumed was a joke, played up to show the ridiculousness of corporate culture on telly, but in reality it seemed  _ very much  _ real. She’d been here a day and already invited to join a soup club, had a chair fitting (which her coworkers assured her was a big deal), and given a tour by HR in which they told her their MP3 policy as if that was an up-to-date term. 

Though, she supposed she shouldn’t be complaining. It was a job, gotten through nepotism really, but a job nonetheless. She would be nicer to Robb about it, since he’d suggested it, and nicer to Sansa when she showed up to take her out to lunch with her cubicle mates, set on helping her settle in. Arya had never wanted to end up in Stark Industries, had done absolutely everything to avoid it, but here she was. 

She clicked over to Twitter on her computer, wondering if they monitored website usage. Would she get in trouble?  _ Could  _ she even get in trouble with her older brother as the boss? Her sister as head of Creative Marketing? Bran as… well, honestly Arya wasn’t sure what Bran did. But she was fairly certain neither did any of her other siblings, just that he was in the building  _ somewhere  _ and doing something integral enough to matter. 

_ Her  _ job mostly consisted of scheduling conference calls and filling out invoices. It was mind-numbing work, which could have been worse. Mind-numbing meant they wouldn’t miss her when she finally got out of here. 

“Hey, Jeyne, could you–” The voice stopped, and Arya swiveled in her chair. 

In front of her was a man—tall, broad, sturdy—that she thought she had maybe seen before, though she couldn’t be certain how. His eyebrows scrunched together. 

“You’re not Jeyne,” he said, tapping his fist against the top of her cubicle wall. He leaned his arms against the border, and she wondered if it would hold. He was  _ big,  _ and she had little confidence in the built structure. 

“Astute observation. What alerted you?” she asked with a raised brow. 

His eyes narrowed. “I have a feeling you don’t want me to actually answer that. Who are you?”

“Rude,” she said with a nod. She leaned back in the chair, letting it bend further back then the Operations Manager had suggested in the chair fitting hours before (she just didn’t  _ get  _ it, the need to fit the chair but also the fact that she was being restricted on its use when the chair was clearly designed to go that far back). “I’m Arya.” 

“Ahhh,” he said, leaning back now and up to full height. “A Stark.” 

She didn’t like the way he said that. It was the way people had been saying her name her entire life. There was always so much attached to it, as if they thought they knew exactly what that meant.  _ Spoiled. Privileged. Snobby.  _ Arya hated it, the implications, and maybe that was why she had tried to stay so far away from the business. That and the fact that this fucking gray cubicle was the bane of her existence. 

He must have noticed the way it made her tighten, bristle, because he shifted from foot to foot as if uncomfortable. “I’m good friends with Jon,” he continued. 

He still looked uncomfortable, so she let him. Fuck him for sounding judgmental, especially if he was friends with her as-good-as brother. 

“I didn’t mean it the way it sounded,” he said. “Honestly.” 

She tilted her head, waiting to see how long she could ride this out. Truthfully, this had been the most fun she’d had all day. 

“Okay, just  _ talk  _ already, would you?” he exclaimed, a tenseness taking over his shoulders. “You look like you’re plotting my murder.”

She laughed. He groaned. 

“What were you going to ask Jeyne to do?” she asked, twisting back to her computer. It was bulky and slow and the mouse stuck.  _ Horrible.  _ “I probably can’t do it because I was trained for jack shit, but I can try.” 

She turned over her shoulder to look at him, but jolted when she noticed he had entered the cubicle and she hadn’t even heard him. He was tall enough that him crouching beside her, palm laid flat out on her desk (what the  _ actual  _ fuck, his hand was large enough he could have probably palmed her whole head), looked beyond ridiculous.

“Open your calendar,” he said. “You definitely can’t do what you need to do for me on twitter.” 

She humphed, sliding over to the tab she did most of her work in. Well, as far as she knew. Pretty much she’d been thrown at the cubicle by a monotonous HR lady who had told her there was a folder of manuals Jeyne had left behind for her to follow. Arya had skimmed them briefly before needing at least another two cups of coffee to even have the energy to be alive. 

“Aye, aye. Calendar open, boss.” She could practically  _ feel  _ him roll his eyes over her shoulder. 

“I’m supposed to have a meeting tomorrow, but it’s being moved. Just click on it and change the dates. You’ll have to change the conference call line, too, since it’ll be in use at that time by someone else.” 

Arya nodded, doing as she was told. When it was all finished up she clicked the save button with a flourish and turned around to look at him. “You’re welcome.” 

There was amusement evident on his face. “I could have done it faster if I did it myself. You haven’t asked my name, you know.” 

“Gendry Waters,” she said, taking in his shock with a cool demeanor. “I saw it on the meeting notice.” 

His mouth formed into an o, then he barked out a laugh. “Huh. How long are you staying, Arya?” 

“As short of a time as I can manage, hopefully. How long you been stuck here?” She tilted her head, hair only barely long enough now to skim past her shoulders. Already she was feeling the ache to chop it off. Maybe it was the fear of permanence, the hair and the need to keep moving. Maybe she just liked to move. 

“Let’s do lunch, and I’ll tell you all about it,” he said.

* * *

 

They went a block away to a place that seemingly had no name as far as Arya could tell, and they sat right up at the bar. It was sort of dark and dingy, which Arya loved but thought was an odd choice for a first lunch outing. Whatever. 

“They have really good burgers,” he offered, tapping against the bar with his finger tips. 

Arya leaned her arms against the bar, relishing in the feel of anonymity. No one cared a wink who or what you were in a place like this. Holes, she called them. Wherever she travelled or ended up, it was easy enough to find a hole. They had been her favorite places to find and sink into.

Funny that Gendry would bring her to one her first day. 

“Gendry,” the barman said. He was near jolly with white hair and a calm demeanor. “You brought someone with.” 

“New hire,” he said. 

“Arya,” she introduced herself and held out her hand. 

He took it with a strong grip. “Davos. Nice to meet you. Water?” 

“That’d be great.” Gendry nodded, watching him walk away. “How’d you finally end up at your family’s company? From what I know from Jon, you’re barely in the country.” 

“He’s exaggerating because he misses me all the time,” she said. “I’m the best Stark, and he’s left with  _ Sansa  _ and  _ Robb  _ when I’m gone. Poor guy.” 

“Sansa and Robb are really nice,” Gendry replied with a shake of his head. 

“I know, isn’t it the worst?” Arya gladly took the water Davos set in front of her. “Quick, assure me I haven't been lured somewhere dangerous by a weird dude I don’t know.” 

Davos looked amused. “If he lured you here, don’tcha think I wouldn’t tell you?” 

She nodded. “Fair point.” She twisted on her stool before resting her elbow against the bar top. “Can you tell I’m avoiding the question?” 

He rolled his eyes. “Obviously. You’re different than your siblings, you know.”

That made her smile spread. “How’d Jon describe me?” 

“Not that we talked about you much, but he used the word independent.” 

“Sansa uses spirited,” she said. “I think they’re all ways to nicely say I’m a public menace.” 

“You’re being nice enough to me so far.” 

She narrowed her eyes. “Is that so?” 

“Helped change my schedule change.” 

“Quite literally my job. Also you said you could have done it quicker yourself, which was quite rude, actually. Do you know how little time it takes for even a novice to schedule a Google Calendar event? Very little.” 

He laughed. “Jon used independent, and I’m going to use annoying.” 

“The rudeness continues,” she said as she shook her head. “At least I’m not stupid.” 

“I feel like I’m in primary school all over again. Do you want me to pull your pigtails?” 

“Weird kinks, Waters.” She laughed when he choked on his water.

* * *

 

**SANSA STARK**

**Sansa:** _ Let’s chat on Hangouts!  _

ARYA STARK accepted the invitation. 

**Arya:** Is this our life now? Is this what we’re subjected to? Conversations over GMAIL CHAT!!!!

**Sansa:** Would you rather I send a formal email? Also, excuse me, but you ditched out on me for lunch! That's rude. 

**Arya:** Gendry offered, aren’t you just happy I’m playing nice and trying to make friends? Be sociable?? 

**Sansa:** You just went because you didn’t want to talk to Margaery, I know it. 

**Arya:** Your lovely friend Margaery? Oh nooooooo, I can’t believe I missed out. 

**Sansa:** Imagine me scowling at you. Wait, who’s Gendry. Jon’s Gendry? Let me look him up in the staff manual. 

**Arya:** I can’t imagine there are many Gendry’s. 

**Sansa:** Ohhhhh yeah, Jon’s Gendry. Margaery calls him “Naddy” as in Non-Profit Daddy? I don’t really get it, but I kinda forget his name sometimes. 

**Arya:** Well, I guess he works in the non-profit sector of the company then. 

**Sansa:** How did you go to lunch with him and not know? 

**Arya:** Shouldn’t you be doing your job so I can be not doing mine? 

* * *

Arya went to grab another coffee (she wasn’t sure how many she was on today, but time was hard to keep track of when she spent most of the day staring at the gray fucking cubicle wall!!!!), when she spotted the row of cubes that Gendry sat in. She could tell because she heard the rumblings of his voice as a curly-haired, kinda sweaty dude seemingly talked with him from the aisle.

“Hi,” she said without introduction, deciding to veer into whatever they were talking about. She wasn’t ready to go back to work yet. 

Gendry looked good today. He’d clearly gotten his hair trimmed over the weekend, and his button-up was tight enough around his shoulders for her to see some of the muscle definition. She, on the other hand, was surprised she hadn’t managed to get written up by HR with the way her pants had a noticeable rip in them and her shirt warred directly against the line in the handbook that said they couldn’t wear “shirts that are not suitably fitted to you size i.e. too tight, too revealing, hang baggy on your body”. She was, of course, the last one. 

“Arya meet Hot Pie. Hot Pie Arya.” 

“You’re the new administrative coordinator,” Hot Pie said as he held out his hand. “Hi.” 

“Don’t know why they keep slapping on coordinator to the end of titles instead of just saying assistant, but whatever.” She shook his hand back. “Nice to meet you. What’re you two talking about?” 

“Hot Pie saw the new superhero movie last night,” Gendry offered, watching her with a sense of amusement that Arya hadn’t learned quite how to handle yet. 

“Which one? Marvel or DC?” Arya asked. 

“You shouldn’t have said that,” Gendry warned. 

Arya looked between the two, finding Hot Pie to suddenly be bouncing on his toes. “Why not?” 

“I just… have a lot of opinions? And sometimes it overwhelms people? Do you like the movies?” 

Arya looked over at Gendry who merely shrugged like she was on her own. “Yeah, I mean, I don’t actually do anything here so you’re free to come talk to me about them at my cubicle any time.” 

“You  _ really  _ shouldn’t have said that,” Gendry said. 

It was her turn to shrug. The gray cubicle was boring, she’d rather stare at anything else and talk about anything at all. 

* * *

**GENDRY WATERS**

**Gendry:** _ Let’s chat on Hangouts!  _

ARYA STARK accepted the invitation. 

**Gendry:** Hey, Hot Pie is wondering what your brother does. 

**Arya:** The first time you message me and it’s not even a question from you to me, do you even care about me at all? Am I just a tool to you?

**Gendry:** So today’s been boring, then? That you have the time to monologue me over g-chat.

**Arya:** I think I had so little to do I went into a meditative state and could see the past lives of every tree that made up my desk. 

**Gendry:** I’m more worried you took shrooms

**Arya:** Nah just 16 cups of coffee

**Gendry:** Please tell me that's a joke

**Arya:** :P

 

**BRAN STARK**

**Arya:** What’s your job? 

**Bran:** What are  _ any  _ of our jobs really? What is a job? 

**Arya** : You sound like me trying to lengthen a paper. Why are you like this

**Bran:** I don’t know, blame our parents.  

**Arya:** Bran!!!!! People keep asking me what you do!!! What do I say to them!!!!

**Bran:** Don’t put this on me, this is clearly a perception of people within the office who only put value on a job title or salary. Don’t give in. 

**Arya:** I’m not!! I just want an answer. I should be allowed. I looked you up in the database, and it just says ‘General Relations’ as your department (it is NOT an official department btw), and your job title is blank. 

**Bran:** I have to go now, bye. 

 

**SANSA STARK**

**Arya:** What does Bran do? 

**Sansa:** Ask Robb

 

**ROBB STARK**

**Arya:** WHAT DOES BRAN DO HERE????

**Robb:** Um… something. Definitely something. 

Can’t you ask Sansa?

 

**JON SNOW**

**Arya** : For the love of all that is good and holy can you PLEASE tell me what Brandon Stark, my younger brother, does in this fucking company?

**Jon:** Bran works here? 

**Arya:** *facepalms*

 

**GENDRY WATERS**

**Arya:** Bran Stark? I don’t know her. 

**Gendry:** …. ok? 

* * *

“Gendry,” Arya said, vibrating with anger.

He turned around in his chair quickly, clearly not having heard her approach. “What? What happened?” 

“All day,” she began, flinging her arms to the side. “All.  _ Day.  _ I sit, and I wait, and I consume more coffee than my compact body should be able to hold, and I push through to lunch which is its own sort of godsend, and then I push through some more waiting another hour or so, and you know what I do then, Gendry?” 

“What do you do?” he asked, his voice a mixture of exasperated and sort of worried. 

“I drink my goddamn soda. It sits in the fridge, marked with my name, and I get to pop that baby open and enjoy the five minutes it takes for me to drink—”

“We should really talk about your worryingly quick beverage consumption.” 

“—and then the day is a little better, a little brighter. Do you know where my soda was today?” 

“I’m going to go out on a limb and say not in the fridge.” 

Arya accentuated every word with a fist forward, something like a politician trying to make a riveting speech. “Not. In. The. Fridge.” 

Gendry rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Why am I afraid of where this conversation is going?” 

“Because you know in your heart of hearts—”

“I despise that phrase.” 

“—the raw power I can channel to defeat my enemies.” 

“Arya,” he said plainly, leveling her with a gaze that looked like someone speaking with a child. She glared back. “I will buy you another soda if this conversation can end.” 

“It’s not about the soda!” she exclaimed, slamming her fist against the side of the cubicle. Hot Pie looked up from his adjacent cubicle with a fearful look. “Sorry,” she whispered to him before turning back toward Gendry. “Where are your morals? Don’t you want to fight for justice?” 

“I want to finish my proofs so I can go home and pretend this conversation never happened,” he said. 

“That’s fucking  _ rude _ . Why do I put up with you again?” she asked with a tilt of her head. 

“I thought I was putting up with you?” A smile flickered at the edge of his lips, and he stood up from his chair with a dramatic groan more suited to someone twice his age. “Who are the prime suspects?” 

She snapped, now looking up at him to meet his eyes. “ _ That _ is the enthusiasm I was looking for. Thank you.” 

* * *

**MARGAERY TYRELL**

**Margaery:** _ Let’s chat on Hangouts!  _

ARYA STARK accepted the invitation. 

**Arya:** I know it says I accepted the invitation, but that was pure accident. I was trying to delete you. 

**Margaery:** Why did I see you traipsing through the office with Naddy before going to harass poor Renly in his cubicle? 

**Arya:** HE TOOK SOMETHING THAT WASN’T HIS!!!

Tell your traitor of an almost brother-in-law that the Starks will remember this day until the last of our days. 

**Margaery:** I don’t care about that, are you banging Gendry?

**Arya:** new number who dis

**Margaery:** I’m going to assume your lack of response as suspicion. 

**Arya:** GO FLIRT WITH MY SISTER AND LEAVE ME ALONE!!!!!!

**Margaery:** Baby, I was born a multitasker. I can do both at once. 

**Arya:** I don’t break HR rulebook codes of conduct, so I will not be sleeping with the only bearable person at this office. Thank you for your interest. Goodbye. 

**Margaery:** Said the girl wearing open-toed shoes and a nose ring today as if those are allowed in the HR rulebook. 

**Arya:** GO FLIRT WITH MY BROTHER AND LEAVE ME ALONE!!!!!!

**Margaery:** ;)

**Arya:** :(((((((((((((((((((((((((((

* * *

Gendry sat at one of the small circular tables in the lunchroom, nibbling at a bag of carrots that looked positively sad. Arya hit the vending machine again in the hope of dislodging the salt and vinegar crisps that would seemingly  _ not budge. _

“I can’t believe you’re going to such effort for salt and vinegar crisps,” Gendry said. “It’s actually worse than you just not eating.” 

“Enjoy your sad, sad carrots, and leave me alone,” she replied in a huff. 

Her desk life was clearly ruining her fitness levels because she was honestly getting out of breath from fighting a vending machine. In a last ditch effort, she hit the side with her closed fist as hard as she could manage. It stung her wrist, but the crisps fell with a victorious sort of  _ plunk.  _ When she looked over her shoulder to give him a triumphant smile, he simply rolled his eyes in return. 

She fell into a chair across from him, popping her feet up onto the table so she could lean back. 

“Arya, people eat here,” he said, narrowing his eyes at her, frankly, dirty and well-worn sneakers. 

“Good catch.” She flung another handful of crisps into her mouth, chewing a little extra obnoxiously. 

“You’re insufferable,” he replied, and she just smiled wider through the crunching of her crisps.

He paused, seeming to look at her fully then, as if he’d been waiting to try to understand something. It threw her off guard, made her feel vulnerable in a way she hadn’t in a while. People didn’t really  _ look  _ at her, not really. Not when Sansa and Robb were usually sandwiching her from either side, not when she was so quick and quiet most people barely noticed her at all, and sometimes Arya thought maybe that was why she chose to be obnoxious with Gendry from the get-go. 

She liked to tease, be loud and fun, but also she had  _ liked  _ him without really knowing why. She hadn’t wanted to disappear from him. From the very beginning, she had  _ wanted  _ to be Arya so that he knew exactly what he was getting. And he had, and he’d stayed around, and it almost seemed like he liked it. Her. 

“What?” she asked, her voice a bit hoarser than she had been hoping for. The thought had caught her unexpectedly, and it seemed to lodge itself straight into her chest and throat. Or maybe it was just the salt and vinegar crisps, which maybe  _ hadn’t  _ been the best choice though she would never admit that to him. 

“Why are you here, Arya?” He didn’t look judgmental, not intrusive, merely curious. “How’d you end up at this office?” 

Her throat felt drier still, and she was saved from answering when Margaery swept through the doorway of the lunchroom. She looked as beautiful as she ever did—long hair curled down her back, patterned suit tailored to perfection, tasteful earrings in place. Arya bent forward and stole Gendry’s seltzer water, taking a generous sip while he narrowed his eyes at her. 

“You’re going to make it gross now,” he said with a sigh. 

“Oh,” Margaery exclaimed, greeting them both with a wave as she went to the refrigerator to assumedly get her lunch. “Naddy, Arya. What a lovely not-at-all surprise to see you two in here together.” 

“You call him Naddy to his  _ face _ ?” Arya asked. 

Gendry sighed. “Unfortunately.” 

Margaery’s red lips spread wider. “He loves me. I help him with marketing all the time for his fundraisers.” 

“She does know how to make anything sound exciting on social media,” Gendry agreed. “Though I’m still not certain she ever started talking to me for anything other than trying to flirt with Jon.” 

“Jon?” Arya exclaimed and shivered. “ _ Jon? _ ” 

“That has never been proven,” Margaery started, pointing a finger at Gendry with a slight tilt of her head to accompany it. “Frankly, Jon is  _ not  _ my type.”

“Margaery, please put me out of my misery and tell me which of my siblings you are  _ actually  _ trying to bang,” Arya said, dropping her feet to the floor so she could rest her elbows on the table instead and clasp her palms together in a joking prayer. “It would save me so much undesired conjecture.” 

“First off,” she replied, now having grabbed her lunch and falling into a seat across from the both of them. Somehow, she made it seem more like she was a lecturer and the two of them merely her students, “I would  _ never  _ bang your siblings. I would make tasteful, stunningly beautiful love to them that they would be unable to forget for the rest of their lives, and please don’t let  _ them  _ forget that. Second off, it has never been truly confirmed that I am attempting to do the previous with  _ either  _ of your siblings.” 

“I know,” Arya groaned, “that’s why I’m asking. Though, the snapchats I’ve been sent against my will would prove otherwise.” 

Margaery’s lips tilted up at the edge before she rapped her knuckles against the table. “Gotta keep you guessing. Enjoy your platonic lunch.” She hopped up from the seat and swept out of the room with the scent of her expensive perfume. 

Arya looked at him. “She thinks we’re probably banging.” 

“Insulting that she doesn’t think  _ we  _ make unforgettable, stunningly beautiful love,” he said with a shake of his head. At the wrinkle of Arya’s face he released a gruff laugh. “I know, though. I, too, am forced to be connected to her through gmail messenger.” 

“Who do you think she’s after, then?” Arya asked as she finished up her crisps and crumpled up the bag. 

Gendry shrugged as he began to pack the remnants of his lunch up. “I always thought Robb. Sansa seems more interested in Jon or your brother’s weird friend, and I sort of think Margaery is probably flirting with her to annoy you.” 

“Jon or  _ Theon _ ?” Arya asked, face most likely comical in its confusion. “Ew.  _ Ew. _ ”

“Usually, I think Jon. But then Theon comes into the office acting off the fucking walls, and she’s for some reason charmed. So what do I know.” He stood up to his feet, waiting for her to join. “What, you and your sister don’t talk about boys?”

“Boys? No.” She shivered again, wiggling out her limbs before following him out of the room. Gendry paused outside the doorway, looking down at her with something near fondness that tugged oddly at her chest. “What?” 

“Are you ever going to tell me why you’re here?” he asked. 

She shrugged, looked away from his gaze. “Just needed some money.” When she looked back she could tell he didn’t buy it. “Lunch is over Gendry, back on the clock and all that. I’ll see you  _ later. _ ”

“Oh, you mean a half hour when you get bored and come to harass me.” 

Arya turned away from him, waving her hand over her shoulder. “Sure, whatever you like to call it.” 

* * *

**SANSA STARK**

**Arya:** Do you like Jon? Or Margaery? Or Theon?

**Sansa:** You just named three people in my life we both know I obviously like. What is this about? Why is this something that couldn’t wait until after office hours? 

**Arya:** I can literally see you from where I am, laughing with Margaery in your cubicle

Now Margaery has become more important than me. 

You won’t even look at our messages. 

You’ve replaced me, thrown me to the side

… 

When did I become so needy? 

**Sansa:** I’ve been wondering the same thing as of late. You’ve singlehandedly tripled the amount of chat messages I get a day. 

**Arya:** But I’m sure I make the office more fun?

**Sansa:** …

Sure

**Arya:** I swear to every god I am the most offended I have ever been. 

**Sansa:** dRaMaTiC

* * *

**GENDRY WATERS**

**Arya:** How do you turn Hot Pie off? Why do we even call him Hot pie?

**Gendry:** It’s a long story. I just know somehow, beyond my realm of knowledge for how, legally his name is Hot Pie in the HR documents. 

Also, I warned you. You can’t stop him. 

**Arya:** I’m worried he’s going to start crying. He’s getting really moody about these books, what do I do??

**Gendry:** Hand him tissues??? Fake a phone call???

**Arya:** WELL THEN CALL ME

 

The phone on Arya’s desk rang, and she shot an apologetic look to Hot Pie before picking it up. 

“Hi. Arya Stark speaking.” 

“Did you know,” Gendry’s voice came back, fuller somehow on the phone than she had anticipated, “that you are not breaking a single HR dress code rule today?”

“Of course, sir, let me pull that right up for you,” she replied before putting her hand over the microphone and whispering to Hot Pie, “Sorry, this is very important. I have to take it.” 

He nodded, though a little dejected, and waved to her before disappearing back down the hallway. 

“Really? I can’t believe I’m not,” she said once Hot Pie was out of earshot. “Should I wear a crop top tomorrow just to say fuck you to the man?” 

“Here I’m pretty sure your brother is the man, and you say fuck you to him quite enough as it is.” 

“Valid. Thanks for the save, Gendry.” 

“Any time. Bye.” The phone went silent. 

* * *

**SANSA STARK**

**Sansa:** Are you still coming over to mine for dinner tonight? 

SOS Why aren’t you responding. This is so unlike you. 

Actually, you haven’t responded all day. Are you alive?

No monologues. No complaints. No unprompted quotes from The Office.

**Arya:** Sorry, I was actually doing work. Big batch of invoices. 

**Sansa:** W O W

**Arya:** I know, truly surprising for me as well. Who have I become. 

I’ll be around for dinner obviously, any excuse for me to eat good food

* * *

“Are you going to help or just sit there?” Sansa asked, huffing a strand of hair out of her face. The knife in her hands looked dangerously close to threatening.

“Don’t kill me. I’ll help,” she offered, hopping down from her spot on the counter and moving toward her sister in the kitchen. “What do I need to chop?” 

Sansa handed the knife over to her carefully and pointed to the mushrooms. “There. Just thin, but you don’t have to go crazy about it.” 

Arya nodded. “Noted. You have sriracha, right? I don’t want stir-fry if we don’t have sriracha.” 

“You labelled one with your name in my cabinet, remember? I’ve let no one else touch it.” 

She went to the cabinet Sansa pointed to, finding the sriracha just where she’d left it. Satisfied, she pulled it out and set it on the counter in front of her before going back to chopping the mushrooms. 

“How are you adjusting to work?” Sansa asked, looking over as she got the chicken started in the pan. 

She shrugged. “Well enough. It’s boring, but you guys sometimes make it fun. Gendry isn’t half bad.” 

Sansa smiled in a sort of knowing way that had Arya narrowing her eyes. “I didn’t say anything, don’t give me that look.” 

Arya held up the knife and waved it in her general direction. “Your face spoke plenty.” 

“It’s cute,” Sansa said. “Gendry is your work husband.” 

“My  _ what _ ?” Arya exclaimed, looking over at her sister like she was crazy. 

Sansa rolled her eyes. “Don’t be dramatic. Your work husband. It’s not weird, Margaery’s mine. They’re just like, the person you talk to over coffee and come to complain with about stuff and the person you fuck off with when you need to.” 

“I don’t get why everyone thinks Gendry and I are having sex,” Arya said with a sigh as she scratched at the side of her face. 

“Woah, I didn’t say anything about sex,” Sansa replied. “Work relationships of this nature are not inherently  _ sexual _ . Marg and I are platonic. Pretty sure she’s trying to have sex with Robb. And by pretty sure I mean the other day when Robb came in wearing his flannel for casual Friday she messaged me ‘I want to have sex with Robb’.” Sansa pushed the chicken around the pan, flipping it over to get it cooked evenly. “But  _ let’s  _ unpack that your mind jumped there because I would love to discuss.” 

“You don’t discuss boys with me,” Arya pointed out. 

“There’s never been a moment,” Sansa replied, “but I would love to make this the moment. Do you like Gendry?” 

Arya liked Gendry in the easiest sense of the word. It had been instantaneously simple with him in a way it never was for her. Robb and Sansa got the social gene in their family, and Arya wasn’t  _ anti-social  _ she just found it hard to connect to people. It was probably because the bullshit was nauseating to her, and she’d never learned how to deal with all the basic pleasantries expected of her to be a person. 

Gendry had never needed that. They’d jumped right into friendship, and she felt certain he knew exactly who she was. They were friends, and Arya was genuinely  _ excited  _ to see him most days. In a grossly cliche way, he actually made going to the office worth it. 

“He’s my friend,” Arya said instead, eyes trained on the mushrooms in front of her. “I did have a sex dream about him the other night, though. It was very strange, like he was this blacksmith with dirty hands, and then I came up and—” 

“I don’t know if I want you to finish that,” Sansa said. “But like I’m proud of your blossoming sexuality and all that. Live out your weird, kinky roleplay dreams.” 

“I won’t with him,” Arya said with a roll of her eyes, trying to keep it light, but there was a seriousness with her words. 

“Why not?” Sansa asked, playing at the game of keeping it light as well. 

“I like him,” she replied as if that was answer enough. Arya could feel Sansa looking at her in that intense way of hers, and she sighed before meeting it. “Out with it.” 

“It’s the people you like you’re supposed to keep around,” she said. “That you even sometimes try to date. Wild, I know.”

Arya nodded slowly as if she was thinking it over, giving it time to grow, before pursing her lips and tilting her head in Sansa’s direction. “So which of the three people  _ you  _ like are you going to attempt to pursue a relationship, then? I mean, you did say Margaery wants Robb, but—”

“Fuck  _ off _ ,” Sansa squealed as she threw a tea towel at her sister’s head. “We were having a moment.” 

“ _ You  _ were trying to have a moment, and I pushed the moment to the side. Because I’m hungry, and I think our moment can chill out and be revisited later.” 

Sansa narrowed her eyes for a moment before shaking it off, laughing lightly at the ridiculousness of her sister. “Whatever you say, weirdo.” 

* * *

**GENDRY WATERS**

**Arya:** Do you think I’d kill a plant?

**Gendry:** Like… objectively? Do I think you would intentionally kill a plant unprompted? Or if you tried to have one at your desk? 

**Arya:** I was going to get mad that you would insinuate the first but honestly I have a lot of untamed rage I guess it’s not that far from the possible

The latter, obvi

**Gendry:** We can put extra post-it notes up so you remember to water. I mean, yeah, I’m still pretty sure you’ll kill it even with but like might as well try I guess

**Arya:** Huh. Okay. Noted.

* * *

**ROBB STARK**

**Robb:** You can pick up your team football t-shirt at any time from Sam. 

**Arya:** Am I supposed to know what this means? 

**Robb:** Shit. I forgot to ask you, didn’t I? 

**Arya:** Ask me what Robbbbbert. 

**Robb:** You’d love to play on our office football team, wouldn’t you Arya? Wouldn’t you???

Please. Take pity. If we lose to the bloody LANNISTER TEAM AGAIN I WILL LOSE MY MIND

**Arya:** Dude, all you had to say was there’s the possibility of making Joffrey cry by “accidentally” kicking a football into his face and I would have been in. 

**Robb:** That's the spirit! 

* * *

“Honestly,” Gendry said as he did some weird stretch on the ground Arya thought might actually just be a way to fuck with her, “I’m surprised it took Robb this long to get you on the team.”

“HR policy, apparently. You have to be working for at least 60 days before you properly join clubs, especially physical ones.” Arya did a much more  _ normal  _ stretch, thank you very much, to get her legs ready for all the running she was about to be doing. “How bad do we normally do against Lannister Inc.?” 

Gendry hissed, shaking his head. “Honestly? Pretty rubbish. They keep recruiting huge dudes from their security team to play for them. They’ve got this dude, The Hound his jersey says? And he—”

“You’re telling me  _ Sandor  _ is here?” Arya asked, suddenly excited as she shielded her eyes to see him across the field. Sure enough, there he was. 

“You  _ know  _ him?” he asked in disbelief, but Arya had already got it in her head to run off toward him. “Arya!” he called a second later.

She saw Sandor turned away from her talking, though it was mostly him grunting in response, to Brienne which was odd enough, and then she was flinging herself onto his back unannounced. A rough, loud grunt escaped him as she clung onto his back something like a monkey. An arm came around to either push her away or hold her in place so she didn’t fall, Arya couldn’t quite tell.

“Sandor! Did you miss me?” she asked breathlessly. 

The arm halted mid-air, falling back to his side. “Gods, I fucking  _ hate  _ you, girl. Get off my bleedin’ back why don’t you.” 

She hopped down and waited for him to turn around, giving a friendly wave to an amused Brienne all the while. 

“Since when did you join the suits?” he asked, looking down at her with a wrinkled brow. “Last I heard you were on the side of some fucking mountain, chasing death.”

“Mountain got dangerous,” Arya said with a shrug. 

“I remember telling you that before you fucked off.” 

“You did,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “Since when the hell do you work for the Lannisters?” 

He shrugged. “Money is money, girl.” 

“You always pretend like you don’t know my name despite me  _ obviously  _ being your favorite Stark. Hi Brienne, by the way. Has Jaime not come, yet? I’m surprised he’s not bothering you.” 

“He was lacing in some fancy new laces for his shoes or something so he’s momentarily sidetracked by a shiny thing. Thank Gods.” 

“He does often remind me of a toddler, so that isn’t shocking in the least,” Arya agreed. 

“Who’s the wanker who keeps looking over here at you? The one talking to the sister I actually like better,” Sandor asked, looking past her. 

“You don’t actually like Sansa better, she’s just pretty and nice. Don’t betray me like that.” Arya turned her head to see Gendry talking with Jon and Sansa, catching up to meet her gaze and giving an awkward wave at all their eyes. “Oh, yeah, Gendry. Sansa calls him my work husband. I think it’s a fucking stupid thing to say.” 

“You have a  _ boyfriend?” _ Sandor laughed so hard, rough and gruff and sort of disgusting honestly, people all around them looked up. “That’s the funniest thing I’ve heard all day.” 

“Fuck you, Sandor. I could have a boyfriend if I wanted. Not that he is, but fuck you.” She tucked the loose hair behind her ears, narrowing her eyes as thin as she could manage all the while. “Like you have any right to judge.” 

“Aye, like I have any right to judge and  _ you  _ have a pretty boyfriend. Almost as embarrassing as Brienne and her Ken doll.” 

“Jaime is not my boyfriend. I don’t even like him,” Brienne said as if it was as easy as fact. 

“He’s looking at your arse in those spandex right now,” Sandor said with a scoff. “Very convincing.” 

Brienne turned around to see him. Jaime smirked, she flipped him off, and Arya was pretty sure she could actually see hearts coming from his eyes the entire time. 

“You’re psyching me out,” Arya said. “This is all a game tactic, I can tell. I’m going back to my side.” She jogged away, waving over her shoulder. “Fuck you, Sandor!” she called cheerily. 

As she got closer, she could tell Gendry had taken off his sweatshirt and track pants, and she was distressed to notice how he looked quite fit. His calves were  _ ripped.  _ Arya had never looked at a man before and found their calves so arousing, but here she was, and it only got worse when she looked at his massive arms and shoulders. 

“You just jumped on a man’s back who quite literally could snap you in two with a single finger,” Gendry said as she approached. 

“And I lived to tell the tale.” She held her hands out to the side of her, feeling the energy of the day crackle through her. 

It had been a while since she had gotten to use her energy like this—channel it into sport, into competition. Since she started at the office, she had nearly forgotten this was the feeling she used to search for daily. Hiking mountains, sailing boats, traveling the world, and then… she had ended up here. Gendry across from her, Sansa and Jon talking at his side, smiling and happy, had made it all the more bearable than she imagined. 

* * *

The game started well enough. The Lannister Inc. team was stacked with a few fiercely good players, Sandor one of them, but the rest were just all right. Arya knew if they could act accordingly and perhaps take them out, the other players would be forced to pull their weight and the game would be much easier to win.

So, she made it her personal mission to steal the ball from between Sandor’s feet as much as possible. Sometimes, he swatted her away like she was nothing more than a fly with a growl which left Arya laughing. Gendry and her were pretty good at passing the ball back and forth between them, both speedy enough to pull away from the pack. 

She even got to hit Joffrey in the face with the ball. He didn’t  _ cry  _ (not at least visibly enough for her to see), but the smile Sansa passed her from the stands as Tyrion laughed openly beside her was enough to make it worth it. Then, the bastard retaliated, and she ended up twisting over his outstretched leg and falling wonky on her ankle. 

“Fuck,” she hissed, holding it between her hands. 

The game slowed to a halt, and Gendry was at her side quickly. His brows met in the middle, his eyes concerned, and he brought tentative hands to her ankle. 

“How bad does it hurt?” he asked. His voice was all business. “Can you rotate it at all?” 

She tried to move it slightly, wincing with the movement. “I’ve had bad sprains, I don’t think it’s that. It hurts, though.” 

“Okay,” he said. “No more playing today then.” He moved forward to pick her up, arms already underneath the crook of her knees, when she put a hand to his shoulder to stop him. 

“Hey,” she said, “let’s not get all knight in shining armor. I twisted my ankle, not fell dramatically ill onto a giant settee. I think you can just help me support my weight.”    


“Honestly with our height difference and the fact that a bag of flour weighs more than you it would legitimately be easier to lift you, but I listen to what you want,” he said as he grasped her elbows instead to help guide her up onto her good foot. 

Arya wrapped her hand around his neck, letting her weight fall into his side, and he was basically carrying her anyways the way his arm was around her waist and holding her weight. She couldn’t help but look at him, see the way his skin was tanned from the sun as summer was around them, and how his eyes twinkled. He really was sort of beautiful like this—not hot, not fit (though he  _ definitely  _ was that, too, those  _ calves _ ). It almost didn’t make sense that somehow she had been lucky enough to have him in her life. 

“Keep your eyes on the ground, Arya,” he said. “If you fall again you’ll only make it worse.” 

“You got me,” she said, realizing it was true and she felt it, knew it. “You’re not going to let me fall.” 

But she trained her eyes back forward anyways (to keep him calm, obviously,  _ not  _ because she was scared of the way he might look at her after those words and the way she had said them—soft, trusting, sure). 

* * *

“Work husband,” Sansa whispered a minute later as Arya sat with her ankle propped up with ice on the bench. “Just saying,” she sing-songed before leaning back and returning to Tyrion, the two of them discussing something entirely incomprehensible to Arya.

She watched Gendry running across the field, laughing as he spun with the ball around and past Brienne before she kicked it right out of his path and ran with it down the field. He paused and ran a hand through his hair, the sweat letting it stick up a bit, and he used his shirt to rub the sweat off of his face. Oh fuck he had  _ abs _ , too. 

Arya groaned, pretending it was her ankle when Sansa looked over with a curious brow. 

* * *

**THEON GREYJOY**

**Theon:** _ Let’s chat on Hangouts!  _

ARYA STARK accepted the invitation. 

**Arya** : Theon… what the fuck

**Theon:** hey! how’s it going?? 

**Arya:** THEON YOU DON’T EVEN GO HERE

**Theon:** yeah, but i don’t work normal hours like you lot. I get lonely when robb and sansa are gone what am i supposed to dooooooo

**Arya:** so you …. go on GMAIL and message people at work … through GMAIL

**Theon:** think your caps lock might be having some problems there arya 

**Arya:** yours too since you clearly don’t CAPITALIZE anything. 

Theon. 

**Theon:** Arya. 

**Arya:** You messaging me through gmail chat while you do not work here and are not working is actually SADDER than my existence here, and the fact that /i/ am now forced to use gmail chat on the regular

**Theon:** ooo burn, ouch, sssss

**Arya:** I–

 

**SANSA STARK**

**Arya:** Theon is messaging me, make him stop. 

**Sansa:** ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

 

**JON SNOW**

**Jon:** Hey, can you add a conference call onto the schedule for me and Robb with the board next week Friday? 10:00. 

You can just add it for second Friday of the month, recurring. Sound good? 

Arya?

**Arya:** Sorry, apparently dealing with Theon is part of my daily workload now. 

I’m on it, I’ll send out the invites shortly. 

**Jon:** Theon… doesn’t work here?

**Arya:** My point exactly. 

 

**ARYA STARK**

**Arya** : Your other boyfriend is bothering me now, too. Something must be in the water today. 

**Sansa:** ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

But also, please don’t call them my boyfriends. I can have friends who are boys that I don’t want to platonically make my work husbands but end up having weird period-specific kink sex dreams about. 

(Nan in HR if you somehow can spy on my computer and read this I am so sorry, don’t fire me)

**Arya:** You have a sex dream ONE TIME and then SEVERAL MORE TIMES and then HAVE IT DURING WAKING HOURS and suddenly you want to bone a guy, okay, cool, i see how it is

**Sansa:** You are… incriminating yourself

**Arya:** ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

* * *

Arya ran up the stairs, carrying a box of envelopes she had picked up from the mailroom that was getting heavier by the second, when she went to her pocket to find her key card… not there.

“Fuck,” she muttered underneath her breath. 

Her options were limited. She could go all the way back to the first floor to exit out the stairwell, ride the elevator back up, and then plead with HR to give her a temporary one while she went to find her original or she… could wait for someone to let her in. She pounded on the door with her free fist as she balanced the box of envelopes against her hip with the other. No response. 

“ _ Fuck, _ ” she said louder this time, because apparently there was  _ no one  _ around to hear it anyways. In a last ditch effort, she reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone. It rang an agonizing three times before he picked up. 

“Hi. This is Gendry Waters.” 

“Hi, can you bail me out?” 

“Of jail?”

“Of the stairwell.” 

He paused over the line, and she felt her irritation build. She was pretty sure he was enjoying this far more than he should. 

“Gendry, is this going to take all day? I am carrying a heavy box.” 

“Fine.” She could hear him click out of something on his computer. “I’m coming.” 

Arya leaned the box against the wall to help hold the weight. She knew it shouldn’t take too long for him to come, but the waiting and the silence of the stairwell made time feel as if it was stretching itself longer. When the door finally rattled open, she let out a sigh of relief. 

“Hi,” he said, smiling at her in a self-satisfied way. 

Even though he was being  _ annoying _ , she smiled back because she couldn’t help it. “Hi.” 

“Do you remember one of the  _ first  _ conversations we ever—”

“ _ Please _ do not bring up what I know you’re going to bring up.” 

“This key card, you said,” he continued unbothered as they walked down the hall, “makes me feel undeniably powerful. When I pull its cord and tap myself into a room—”

“I  _ know _ ,” she groaned, narrowing her eyes at him. “I was going to thank you, but now you’re being insufferable.” 

“You’re welcome,” he said anyways, his smile still as annoying but also kinda attractive which Arya hated. 

She flipped him off. His laugh carried her back to her desk.

* * *

**GENDRY WATERS**

**Arya:** I think I finally mastered the workplace conversation. Are you ready?

**Gendry:** Sure. 

**Arya:** Monday through Tuesday: how was your weekend?

Wednesday: wow, would you look at this weather

Thursday through Friday: Any plans for the weekend? 

Repeat until death

**Gendry:** I see myself in this picture, and I don’t like it. 

* * *

They went to, of all places, Davos’s pub after work on Friday. Arya had been back a few times for lunch with Gendry, but never after work and it was surprisingly busy. It was strange, though, to see a fair amount of her coworkers still in their business attire drinking alcohol and mingling in a non-work sanctioned setting.

“I’m going to get a beer, what do you want?” Arya asked Sansa. 

She tilted her head, pushed a hair behind her ear, before sighing. “Um. Dornish wine? Let’s try that?” 

“Sure, you got it. I’ll find you.” Arya tapped her elbow before disappearing into the crowd, slipping between people and popping herself up on the ledge to get her body more visible. 

It took a minute, but when Davos saw her he made his way over with a smile. “And where’s the bull-headed boy?” he asked. 

“Said he had to finish something up,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “His fundraiser is coming up soon, so he’s stressed. Make sure to give him a heavy pour when he finally makes it in.” 

He laughed, tapping the bar. “Will do. What can I get you?” 

“Pint of whatever is dark and on tap and a glass of Dornish red, please.” 

Davos turned to get the drinks, and Arya rotated her body back toward the front to see if Gendry was going to come in. He’d seemed more stressed than she’d ever seen him when she left the office, to the point where she’d stopped the joking and left him to his peace. She hoped he didn’t hole himself up in his office only letting himself get more stressed as the night went on. 

“Add it to my tab,” she told Davos when he dropped the drinks off. “Thank you.” 

He nodded back to her, and Arya grabbed the drinks. She tried her best to make it through the crowd without spilling, though she ended up with a few drops of beer on her wrist, and she gratefully handed the wine over to Sansa. 

“Thanks, Arya,” Sansa said with a smile. “Look. Bran is actually here.” 

He looked up at her, eyes sort of non-seeing and gave her an eerie smile. “I’ve made it.” 

“How much pot did you smoke in the parking lot before coming in?” 

His smile widened. “Reply hazy, ask again later.” 

Arya groaned before turning her gaze toward Sansa. “Why is he giving me responses as if he’s a Magic 8 Ball? Is it just because he’s super high or is he always this weird?” 

“Signs point to yes,” Sansa answered. She turned to check out the door, and when she looked back at them she raised a brow. “Bran, Meera is here.” 

His face went from peaceful to concerned in a second, ducking slightly in his chair as if that would stop her from seeing him. “Fuck. How does one act  _ normal _ ?” 

Arya and Sansa shared an amused look. “I don’t know,” Arya said. “You’re asking the wrong family, dude. Hey, what do you do?” 

“Don’t use my vulnerability to sneak answers out of me.” Bran took a deep breath and sat up straighter, composing himself. “I need more weed.” 

“You need… to go talk to the girl you like,” Sansa said. 

Arya smirked. “Theon and Jon are here.” 

Sansa turned toward her sister, giving her a knowing and a little tight smile. “That doesn’t work on me since I am a normal, mature adult who can control all her feelings.” 

“Sure, you and Robb both. Robb, who is currently dangerously close to dry humping with Margaery at the bar.” 

“Disturbing,” Sansa said as she turned to get a view herself. Arya winced at the way they curved into one another. “Good for her.” 

Arya looked between all of them—Margaery and Robb, Sansa and her boys (maybe? Arya still wasn’t sure on that one), Bran and his obvious crush on Meera. Even Sam was over in the corner practically sweating a puddle at his feet trying to flirt with Gilly. The whole goddamn office was pathetic. 

As if fate was trying to tempt her, remind her she was no better than the rest of them, she felt a hand at her back. When she looked up, Gendry was beside her. There was a crease between his brows, his shoulders looked heavy, and she couldn’t help but feel concern work its way through her chest. 

“Hey, you okay?” she asked. 

“Yeah, just stressed.” He grabbed the beer in her hand that she held out to him and took a gulp before handing it back. “I would love to drink and with you, but all the rest of the people? Too much right now.” 

She did not overthink those words.  _ Not a single bit.  _ She was better than all the other weird, lovesick fools in their office. Really, she was. 

“Let’s go back to mine, then,” she said. 

He nodded, not at all thrown off with the offer, and they snuck out before anyone could comment on it. 

* * *

“You actually have good beer.”

Arya lifted her feet as he came beside her to fall onto the couch. She was practically lying across the whole stretch of it, though Gendry didn’t seem to mind as long as he could sit. When she rested her feet in his lap, he simply set one of his hands on her calf. That was not distracting. Not distracting at  _ all.  _

“Why so surprised?” she asked. 

His lips curved up at one of the edges, curiously as if deciding what to say to that. “No offense, but—”

“That doesn’t make something not offensive. I honestly assume whatever you say next will be inherently offensive because of it.” 

“Then never mind.” He smiled when she scoffed at him, and they both took drags from their bottles. 

She fingered the edge of the label, picking at it. When she looked up from the frayed edge, he was staring at her. “What?” she asked, but she was surprised by how warm it sounded instead of defensive. 

There was something about seeing Gendry on her couch, in her apartment, with his work sleeves rolled up and a beer in his hands that had done that to her. It was strange that it  _ didn’t  _ seem strange. They should have done this sooner. Her apartment was sort of a shit hole (before a few months ago it was more of a hotel room for her than an actual apartment, a rest stop between adventures), but it felt homier now. It felt nearly _like_ a home with him here. 

“Why are you working at your family’s company?” he asked. “All these pictures of great adventures, and now you’re managing our conference call calendar. Why?” 

“It doesn’t matter.” The truth was it  _ did,  _ but she wasn’t sure she was ready for him to know. It wasn’t even big or dark, but it was still  _ something.  _

“You know, the longer I don’t know why you’re here the more convinced I am it’s murder.” He smirked over at her. She pretended she didn’t notice his thumb was rubbing small circles on her calf.

“I know.” She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “I  _ will  _ tell you. Just not yet.” 

He nodded, content. “Okay.” 

“Okay,” she said. “Now tell  _ me  _ why you’re so stressed out.” 

“Next week is the non-profit’s biggest fundraiser of the year,” he said. “It’s where we make pretty much all the money that keeps us going the  _ rest  _ of the year, and there’s a lot to be done. Sometimes, the bureaucracy pisses me off.” 

“That why you didn’t want to be at the bar?” she asked. 

He nodded. “Couldn’t stand half those people right about now.” 

“But you could stand me?” 

She wasn’t sure why releasing that question into the space between them felt vulnerable. Or, more aptly, she did know why and it was majorly inconvenient. Her job had been easy, the sort of thing she knew wouldn’t matter if she left, but now she liked  _ him _ . 

“I can always stand you,” he replied with a shake of his head, “even when I can’t stand you.” 

“That doesn’t make sense,” she pointed out, but she wasn’t going to overthink it. She didn’t want to overthink anything tonight. 

Part of her wanted to crawl down the couch and to him, kiss him like she’d thought about a fair amount of times before. If she was in a pub somewhere, or on one of her adventures, maybe she would. She’d done it enough times—getting the needs of her body met when she needed them—but this was different. Gendry was different. 

Because she wanted more than a single lay. She wanted  _ him,  _ she was pretty sure. And not to sound all sappy like Sansa or, honestly, Robb, but she wanted the little things. Casual kisses and someone to talk to about the bad shit, and she wasn’t sure sleeping with him wouldn’t ruin it. 

“You want to watch something?” she asked instead. 

He nodded. She turned on the TV and did  _ not  _ think about the fact this whole hand was now cupping her calf. 

* * *

**SANSA STARK**

**Sansa:** Why did Jon just tell me when he came to talk to you about a scheduling error you purposefully looked away from him and tilted your head to the side? Like a creepy,  possessed doll?

**Arya:** Sigh. This is what Jon gets for being so fucking boring he doesn’t watch good TV. 

I was looking into the camera like they do on the office. 

**Sansa:** For the last time please no more The Office references it’s tearing our family apart. 

**Arya:** Guess you shouldn’t have made this office scarily like The Office, don’t know what to tell you sis. 

* * *

**GENDRY WATERS**

**Arya:** Hey, you think I’m funny, right?

Sansa says I’m not funny.

sos are u alive

Do you need help with something?

You didn’t even take a lunch break today, where are uuuuuuuuu

Gendry.

**Gendry:** Busy. 

 

“I’ve come to help,” Arya said, stopping at the side of his cubicle. She set a granola bar at his desk, just in case he needed it. Which, was sort of hard considering there wasn’t much free space. 

His desk was piled high with papers, and there was a box of name tags spilling out behind his chair, and when he turned to look at her his eyes were bloodshot. Frankly, he seemed unhinged. 

“I don’t have time for…” He waved his hand in the air manically, motioning to her and the office. “Not today.” 

“I’ve come. To help,” she repeated, slower and punctuated. “Quite literally my job. Tell me what you need.”

“Really?” he asked in a whoosh of breath. 

She sort of wanted to hug him he looked so tired. Sort of just because she cared about him. Sort of for both.

“Always.” She meant it.

* * *

**GENDRY WATERS**

**Arya:** Hey, just so you know it’s going to go well today. 

And like, not to be sappy on main, but I’m proud of you.

**Gendry:** I don’t get this kid speak. What is this lingo.

**Arya:** You and Jon are going to be the DEATH of me. Too many goddamn old men in my life.

**Gendry:** It’s only five years, Arya. Sorry I don’t understand your millennial speak. 

**Arya:** YOU ARE A MILLENNIAL TOO I–

**Gendry:** I feel like we got sidetracked. So, thank you. Excited for you to see the event later. There should be lots of free champagne. 

**Arya:** I am a lush. Gods BLESS. 

* * *

When Arya had heard about the fundraiser she had expected something tasteful and nice. Sansa had described it as one of her favorite work functions of the year, but Arya had assumed that was because it was a formal sort of event. You could wear a floor-length dress (how many excuses in your life did you get for  _ that _ ) and walk around carrying a champagne flute like they were all high society.

In reality, the event was a full-blown  _ ball.  _ That's how it seemed anyways. They had rented out the nicest hotel in the city’s ballroom, had a celebrity activist as a keynote speaker for halfway through the festivities, and there was a big band playing music though no one was dancing yet. 

“Shit,” Arya said as she stepped in. There were hors d'oeuvres being carried around on silver platters, and she grabbed something that looked like a crab puff quickly before it could pass her by. She was  _ starving  _ after having to take the time to get herself ready like this after work. Though, to be fair, Sansa had done most of the work. 

“I know.” Sansa stood next to her,  _ towering  _ really in her red heels. “It’s sort of magical, isn’t it? Your Naddy really pulls it together.” 

“He’s not  _ my  _ Naddy,” Arya mumbled before shooting her a look. “Hey, he’s not Naddy at all. He has a name.” 

Sansa shrugged with a wide smile on her face. “I know. Mr. Gendry Stark.” 

“Very progressive, we are.” Arya laughed. She looped her arm through her sister’s, feeling sort of unstoppable. “Come on, let’s go get drinks.” 

The night spiraled quickly on. Her and Bran and Sansa formed a quick pack near the bar, many of their friends coming to join them. The speaker was good, though perhaps a bit gassed up, and when everyone clapped and it was over, Robb escorted Sansa out to the dance floor to get it started. 

Arya missed Gendry, which seemed a ridiculous thing to admit to herself. She had seen him only briefly at the beginning as he was welcoming some of their higher profile guests, the ones sure to donate the most. Gendry looked everything the dashing head of non-profit should in his tuxedo. His hair was styled, and despite only hours ago looking exhausted, he looked practically glowing. 

As she watched Sansa and Robb dance, quickly joined by a few other couples, she felt a hand at her lower back. It was like at the pub, but now she was wearing a dress with a low-cut back, and she was intimately aware of the temperature of his palm. 

“Wanna dance?” he whispered into the shell of her ear. 

She tried not to shiver. Her slight heels gave her a little more advantage standing next to him, but even with them she still had to tilt her head up to look at him. “Not really, but I will with you.” 

His smile in return was affectionate, and she walked them out to the floor. He lined their arms up expertly, curving his hand against her waist carefully. His movement was a bit jerky, but after half a minute of silent moving he seemed to calm down and grow smoother. 

“Sorry, I get a little nervous to start dancing. Don’t know why,” he said. “Thanks.” 

“I’ve danced with Jon before. You can’t possibly be worse than him. I can assure you, you aren’t in fact.” 

“You like it?” he asked, turning his head to get a good look of the event all before returning his eyes to her face. “I always forget that all the hard work turns out this.”

“It’s beautiful,” she said with a nod, meaning it. “Honestly. Had I known I was interrupting your hard work of producing  _ this  _ with my stupid shenanigans, maybe I would have let you be more often.”

“Your shenanigans aren’t stupid.” She leveled him with a look, and he laughed. “Okay, they’re usually stupid. But my day would be pretty fucking boring without them. You look beautiful, you know.”

The dress Sansa had helped pick out for her was navy and satin, fitting her figure well while still being simple. She’d been convinced to pull her hair up, and she was happy it was off her neck with the temperature of this space steadily increasing. Though that may have been impacted now by how close Gendry was to her.

“Thanks,” she said, giving him an honest smile. There was something in the air and the way he was looking at her. Something that made her  _ feel  _ honest. “I was halfway up this mountain,” she began. 

“Arya, you don’t…”

“No, it’s…” She sighed, shaking her head. “I was halfway up this mountain I was climbing, when I lost my food pack off the side of it. I’ve been close to death so many times before from boats and hikes and weird adrenaline sports. They were fun, and I got paid to post about them, and it was all good. I was never  _ scared _ , not really.” 

“But this time you were?” he asked. 

She nodded. “My family had asked me to stop doing all this shit a million times because  _ they  _ were scared, but this was the first time I was scared, too. That I was hit with the fact that I could die, and there were things I hadn’t experienced, yet.” 

“Like sitting in a boring cubicle?” he joked. 

She shrugged. “I’ve never liked anyone the way I like you.” There. Now it was out, and he could do whatever he wanted to do with it. 

His brow furrowed. “Could I ask for a definition of liked here?”

She smiled. “I like you ‘cause you’re my work husband, but I would also like to have sex with you.”

“Maybe we could go with girlfriend?” he asked. “Unless you want to just slice the work off of work husband and then—”

“Gendry! You can’t just propose to people like that,” Arya said with a laugh. 

He shrugged. “Fine. We’ll start slow.” 

“It’s the dumbest thing you’ve ever said to me, oh my god, I cannot believe—”

“This was a  _ moment,  _ Arya, and you—”

“Be my husband! Fuck, you once asked me the difference between bread and toast, and I swear I was ten seconds from—”

“Stop taking things out of  _ context.  _ You drive me  _ nuts. _ ”

She stopped, then, and let her smile spread wide across her face. She didn’t hide it. “I really like you, too.”

Before either of them could say something to start another argument, they kissed instead. 

* * *

“I probably shouldn’t leave my own function,” he said, though he let himself be pulled into the coat closet with Arya anyways.

“Oh,” she said with a mock-pout, “would you rather  _ not  _ make out with your girlfriend while she’s practically in a ballgown in a coat closet? These are the things of your weird, kinky dreams, man!”

He pushed her against the door as she shut it behind them, and he wasted no time kissing her. Strong and fierce, his tongue dipping into her mouth a little sloppily. Arya had been waiting for this for too long, too. She reached up one of her legs and his hand grasped her thigh, holding it there as she needed to get closer, closer,  _ closer  _ still. 

She couldn’t believe she had been the one out of all of her siblings to actually figure her shit out. Actually, she kinda could. Here she was in the closet with the man of her dreams. Her literally slightly pornographic  _ dreams.  _

“You’re so hot,” he said between kisses, trailing down her neck. One of her hands was at his nape and the other on his bicep. “Like beautiful, obviously, but  _ hot. _ ”

“I like you so much,” she said between laughs, reaching up and capturing his lips with hers. When she pulled back again to get a quick breath, head resting on the door, she laughed again. “But like, soak all these compliments in now, they don’t always come so frequently.” 

He chuckled. “I know.” 

“Also, I don’t know how long I’m going to stay working here,” she said. “I don’t know if it’s me.” 

He smiled at her then, and she truly believed he  _ saw  _ her. Her, exactly who she was, without barriers or walls or exceptions. “I think our relationship can handle being apart some,” he said. “Obviously, I  _ like  _ when you schedule my conference calls—”

“Who else will make the description  _ hopefully you know how to use a phone, stupid _ ?” 

“Actually  _ that  _ I could do without, but I know who you are, Arya. I want you to be doing what makes you happy. I want you to be happy.” He pushed back the fallen tendrils of her hair from her face. “Not that I mean to be sappy on main, but…”

She gasped. “You learned what it meant. You  _ do  _ love me.”

He shrugged. “Gotta keep up with the youths.” 

She laughed, and kissed him, and thought at the very least her stupid job had given her  _ something.  _ And Gendry Waters? He was a sort of wonderful something. 

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr at: [anniebibananie](http://anniebibananie.tumblr.com/)


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